


Race Me

by benjaminrussell



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, the swimming pool scene we didn't get to see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9700871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benjaminrussell/pseuds/benjaminrussell
Summary: After Zarkon is defeated, Lance and Keith return to the swimming pool. They have a race, and Lance has a realisation.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Allarica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allarica/gifts), [bisexualpluto (EternalSoldierKasumi)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalSoldierKasumi/gifts).



It’s a while before Lance has the time to actually swim in the weird ‘what is gravity’ pool, but when they finally have some down time he jumps at the chance. When he enters the room, he’s faintly surprised but mostly just amused to see that Keith has had the same idea. Again. The other paladin is stood gazing up at the water above their heads, but quickly looks around when he hears the quiet pad of Lance’s footsteps, immediately scowling when he sees who it is. Before he can suggest having half the pool each again though, or even just complain about Lance’s presence, Lance grins at him and suggests, “How about a race?” His first instinct was to spout off a ridiculous line like ‘fancy seeing you here’ or ‘if I didn’t know better I’d think that you were following me’, but he manages to restrain himself, not wanting to spoil the first opportunity he’s had to go swimming in ages by pissing Keith off, and instead appeals to the other boy’s competitive streak, the one that’s a mile wide, just like Lance’s. It’s the right choice because Keith’s scowl morphs into the smirk that he often gets when he thinks he’s better than someone (usually Lance) at something. It’s a look Lance knows well, what with the amount of competitions the two of them have, and although he’d never admit it, he’d started challenging Keith to increasingly silly and mundane things just to see it.

“Fine, but prepare to lose,” Keith replies, playing it cool even though it’s painfully obvious to Lance that they’re both equally set on winning the race.

“In your dreams, desert boy. I’ll have you know I’ve won awards for swimming; you’ve got no chance of beating me,” Lance retorts, as he drops his towel by the edge of the pool, or well where the edge would be if the pool wasn’t several metres above them. Normally his bragging is just posturing, lying about or exaggerating his skill for the sake of friendly banter, but this time he’s telling the truth. It’s not something he talks about often, but he was on his high school swim team and they were good. He probably could have even been captain if he’d put his mind to it, but he’d preferred to just focus on his swimming and leave the planning and organising to someone else.

Keith rolls his eyes and shrugs off Lance’s claim, presumably assuming it’s just a joke like most of his boasts. Lance grins to himself at that. He’s going to enjoy seeing the look on the other boy’s face when Lance beats him, and he is going to beat him, unless Keith is secretly a swimming god. Which Lance isn’t going to rule out because Keith is freakishly good at a lot of things, but he doesn’t think it’s actually the case here.

“First we need to figure out how to get into the pool when the castle’s gravity systems aren’t glitching out,” Lance states, looking around for any buttons or ladders or anything else that might enable them to swim in the pool instead of just looking up at it.

***

They eventually manage to get into the pool, and start with a few slow lengths, because even Keith can see the advantage in warming up properly despite his impatience, but Lance is paying more attention to the other paladin than his swimming. It’s only because he could probably swim laps in his sleep, he tells himself, and not because watching Keith is that distracting. The way his muscles ripple as he cuts through the water, the way water droplets run down his face when he comes up for air, how much having his hair tied back in a ponytail suits him... Okay, so maybe Keith _is_ a little distracting. But only because he’s so focused and toned. Fuck it, Lance thinks, admitting to himself that Keith is both attractive and in very good shape. But that’s all it is – Lance has known he’s bi for a long time now, and is perfectly comfortable with appreciating good looking people, even when he’s not attracted to them.

Keith breaks him out of his musing by asking, “Are you ready yet? Or are you going to take as long as you do in the bathroom in a morning?”

“Firstly,” Lance shoots back, “A good skincare routine is very important, and secondly, bring it on!” He reaches the end of the pool, catching the side with one hand as he turns to face Keith, and asks, “How many lengths are we gonna do?” Keith glances down towards the other end of the pool before replying, “Four? The pool’s about twenty five metres long, so we could do a hundred metre sprint and then a longer race afterwards.”

“Sounds good,” Lance agrees, before shifting position ready to push off the wall for a fast start. At least his competitiveness will drive all thoughts of Keith’s looks out of his head and allow him to concentrate on winning the race. He waits for Keith to get into position as well, and then starts counting down, “Three, two, one, go!” He pushes off the wall, feeling pleased at the almost perfect start even after all the months since he’d last been swimming properly, and swims as if his life depends on it. Even though he’s out of practice, he soon settles into the rhythm of the front crawl, actually finding himself cutting through the water even quicker than he used to be able to do – all the combat training must be having an effect on his overall fitness and muscle strength. Reaching the other end of the pool, he grabs hold of the wall with his fingertips, pulls his feet in and then kicks off again, twisting back onto his front as he does so. Keith is just reaching the wall as Lance starts his second length, so Lance allows himself a small grin – he was right to think that he was probably a better swimmer, and assuming he doesn’t mess up one of his turns or something, he’s already got this in the bag. A minute later, he’s proving himself right by reaching the end of his fourth lap while Keith is still halfway down the pool. He holds himself up with one hand on the edge of the pool, and then waits for Keith to finish as well before cheering, “Ha! Suck it! Told you I was gonna win!”

“Okay, fine, I’ll admit you’re fast. But we both know I have way more stamina than you,” Keith retorts, pushing a few stray strands of hair out of his eyes. The action makes him look even more like he should be in a swimwear advert, and Lance half wants to just float where he is and watch him, but he knows that that would just lead to Keith giving him funny looks or asking awkward questions Lance doesn’t want to answer, so he forces himself to look away and suggests, “Twenty lengths this time? As long as you’re prepared to lose again, of course.” Keith scowls at him, but Lance has gotten used to Keith’s many scowls by now, and can tell that the other boy is actually fighting a smile. And that was all Lance’s doing – score!

The two of them get into position again, Lance counts down from three, and then they’re off. The pace is a little slower this time around, both of them knowing they can’t go all out at the start if they want to keep their overall speed up, but Lance is in the lead once more by the time they finish their first length. He slowly increases his lead throughout the race – his talent trumping Keith’s stamina and general fitness, so much so that on something like the fifteenth lap he allows himself a brief moment to glance back at his opponent. Keith is moving smoothly through the water, but Lance’s skilled eye spots a few points that he could improve on, including the fact his turn is a bit messy. He tucks his observations away for later and turns his attention back to swimming the last few lengths, enjoying the powerful feel he gets from propelling himself through the water at this speed. Lance wins the second race as well, but this time he restrains his victory celebrations to just a little dance and a cry of “Yes!” If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Keith’s expression was almost fond, but he does, so he assumes that it’s just the exertion affecting the other boy.

They swim for a little longer, swimming a few lengths in various styles and occasionally splashing each other, before Keith says, “We should get out now otherwise we’ll miss dinner.” Lance must be hearing things because he could swear that Keith sounds regretful. He shrugs it off though, and agrees, trusting Keith’s internal clock, “Yeah, we don’t want to upset Hunk by missing the results of his cooking afternoon.”

***

“We should do this again, it was fun,” Lance grins once they’re out of the pool and the right way up again, grabbing his towel from the floor and using it to dry his hair. Keith rolls his eyes and replies, “You just like it because you’ve found the one thing you’re better than me at.”

“Well, yeah. But it was fun anyway. And I can teach you how to make smoother turns and maximise your efficiency so it’ll be more of a competition,” Lance says earnestly, honestly having had a great time hanging out with Keith without any of their usual antagonism.

Then as Keith snorts and shoulder bumps him as his response, Lance realises he can’t deny it any longer – he has a crush on Keith. A huge, butterfly inducing crush.

 _Quiznak,_ he’s screwed.


End file.
